The Gentle Touch

The deep crimson in the east began to fade, and the sky grew brighter.

Yet the atmosphere over the sand grew increasingly strange.

Under countless watchful eyes, the handsome Roman—whose beauty rivaled a painting—stared coldly at Ricky. His armor was torn and his body filthy with blood, yet he bore not a single external wound.

Tales took a deep breath and looked around instead—the cavalry standing ready, the uneasy mercenaries, the Royal Guard with their complicated expressions, and the tiny yet exquisite Bladefang Camp in the distance, billowing with thick smoke.

He fell into thought.

At last, Wing of Legend turned his head toward Fuse, who was being held under Clay's guard.

"Shadow... Shield?"

Roman gazed at the mixture of resentment and pain in Fuse's eyes and spoke softly.

Fuse stared back at the handsome man before him, realizing something.

He stopped struggling pointlessly and furrowed his brow in thought.

"More."

Ricky raised both arms with a smile.

"His relationship with everyone here runs rather deep."

"Besides being the mastermind behind most of tonight's chaos..."

The leader of the Calamity Sword pointed toward Bladefang Camp in the distance, his tone mysterious.

"He was also the chief culprit who colluded with foreign enemies eighteen years ago, during the Year of Blood, infiltrated Bladefang Dunes, assassinated Hyman Radiant Star, and caused the camp's fall."

Tales sighed.

Fuse shut his eyes in indignation.

The sand fell silent. For a moment, the only sound was the howling wind and sand.

Even the intimidating gaze of Wing of Legend froze.

The next second, the cavalry officers in the front row of the dunes erupted in an uproar!

"What?"

Frank frowned in disbelief.

"You mean... the Ghost Prince? And the camp's fall?"

"This man?"

At once, countless gazes shot toward Fuse.

Ricky nodded, looking satisfied with